


skin

by AngriestPotato



Series: arbitrary smut challenge [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Mutual Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 11:46:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17528117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngriestPotato/pseuds/AngriestPotato
Summary: Sometimes you wish you didn't have to compete with the world as a whole for Gabe's attention, sometimes you wish you didn't love him quite as much.





	skin

Your husband is cheating on you; and it’s not with a woman, or a man, not even with Morrison –actually, in that particular case you think of  _yourself_  as the other woman. Gabe’s true passion, the one that really keeps his heart pumping, is saving the world, the _entire world_.

His hero complex is not as straightforward as other members of Overwatch; he isn’t called to heal the suffering like Ziegler and sure as hell doesn’t think people are better than they seem the way Morrison does. He simply sees a chaotic world, and he’s a 100% confident in his ability to beat it into shape.

You knew all this when you married him, it was part of why you did. Gabriel Reyes is a good man, he’s even a good husband, as far as his job allows; you just realized very late that you –single, individual, average you– will never be enough for him.

Still, when he shows up bearing the mark of someone else: a split lip and an angry, swollen bruise high over his cheekbone, you just pull him into the house and tap soft fingers to his wounds. He reassures you, tells you he’s a big boy and runs his warm hands up and down your arms while you try not to cry at his touch. At the very least you’d like to make sure that he thinks you’re tearing up at his state, instead of at the fact that you envy him every mark.

You wish to be the bruised one, which would be far better than this sanitized sort of untouched. You wish you were the  _bruise_ , aching, unavoidable,  _bothersome_ ; as long as he carries you snug and fever warm wherever he goes. Your heart jackhammers with something you don’t want to name, and the thought makes you desperate, has you falling over his lap where he’s perched on the corner of the bed, gripping and pulling to help him out of the regulation black sweatshirt.

You press your mouth to his and sigh when it makes the arm around your waist tighten; when he laughs into the kiss, you tell yourself that as long as you have this, you’ll be fine. His hands never leave you, even as he guides you to your feet again so he can chuck off his pants and boxers, they slide palm first under the shirt of his you wear to bed and fuck, they feel larger than life. Gabe pulls you in and you’ve missed this so goddamn much, your skin is on fire under his fingertips; you don’t want to love him like this, so fiercely that it might as well be an open wound, you just do.

He cups your breasts and your heart rests easy in the spaces between his fingers, settled by the familiar brush of his thigh between your legs, wet where you meet him, rocking your hips. The muscle tightens, moving against your clit when he thrusts up into your fist, a simulacra of sex that threatens to make you come faster than you ever remember.

The way Gabriel groans under you is almost enough to tide you over, though it’s really how he spills all over your stomach that really does you in, shaking over him and hiccupping into his kiss. You think it then, as he gets up for a towel, and later, during the second round that neither of you can fight against; you know you won’t say it, because words make things real and with Gabe you know you wouldn’t be able to take them back, but it’s a haunting loop in the back of your mind even as you fall asleep, lulled by his steady breathing beside you.

“I want a divorce.”


End file.
